


All Too Strange and Strong

by ifiwereabell



Category: Guys and Dolls (1955), Guys and Dolls - Damon Runyon, Guys and Dolls - Loesser/Swerling/Burrows
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Unplanned Pregnancy, rape will not be graphically shown but will be mentioned, rest of the cast is here but they're not as important as sky and sarah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifiwereabell/pseuds/ifiwereabell
Summary: Sarah goes missing after a midnight prayer meeting, and even after she's found, trauma follows.
Relationships: Sarah Brown/Sky Masterson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this for forever, and finally got around to it. Can't promise how often updates will come after the 26th, but I'll do my best.
> 
> If you didn't see the tags: while it won't be shown in graphic detail, sexual assault plays a huge role in this story. Read at your own risk.

“... And with that, brothers and sisters, we wish you a blessed night.” Sarah said as she stepped off the podium, letting a slight sigh escape her mouth. At two in the morning, the mission had finished their monthly midnight prayer meeting, and to her delight and relief had attracted quite a crowd. Nicely and her had spent the week preaching outside of Mindy’s, him spinning tales of his visions of Heaven and Hell to enraptured patrons and her passing our fliers to anyone who would take one. She’d recognized a few, giving them a friendly smile as they took their seats. 

Now, the twenty-six year old watched as the mission slowly emptied, the visitors entering the cool November night with pamphlets and complimentary coffee in hand. “I’d say that went well,” she said, turning to her coworkers. Her uncle had sat at her desk, face in hand and dozing, while the other five had either also taken a seat or were leaning against the walls, struggling to keep their eyes open. Sarah pursed her lips, taking in the sight, before speaking again. “But I’m guessing all of you would rather head home than listen to me.” 

Arvide was the first to have his eyes snap open, blinking hard, while the rest of the group also stirred. “Oh, ,” the old man started, s “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d drifted off.” 

“It’s alright. I know this is a late night,” she said, waving her hand and rubbing at her eyes. Sarah was exhausted herself, and looking forward to the day off they all had scheduled for tomorrow; Sky had told her before he’d also scheduled a vacation day, and had a surprise planned for her. She smiled slightly at the memory before removing her hand and looking back at the group. “You’re all free to start heading home, I can lock up.”

“Are you sure, Miss Sarah?” Nicely asked from his spot on the wall. “It is awfully late, maybe one of us should stay until you get a cab.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sarah reassured. “I closed up all the time back in Boston, and I’ve done it plenty here. Go home and rest.” She started picking up leftover pamphlets, shuffling them on the desk and pulling the drawer open to store them away. The other missionary workers didn’t put up a fight; arguing with Sarah when you had full energy was already a challenge. Trying when you were exhausted was doomed to fail. 

Arvide approached Sarah as she was clearing out the leftover food, pulling his coat over. “You’re sure you don’t want me to wait?” he asked. “It isn’t a hassle at all.”

“Uncle Arvide, I promise I’ll be fine.” She gave her uncle a tired smile as she tossed the remaining donuts into the garbage; grabbing the coffee pot and the trash bag, she headed to the back of the building to toss it in the dumpster. When she headed inside, locking the back door and grabbing her own coat, the mission was silent. She begun making mental notes of what to bring when she came back to work in a few days, flipping the lights off, when suddenly;

“Sister Sarah?”

Sarah jumped - she didn’t spook easily, not after living in big cities for most of her adult life, but she’d truly thought she was alone - and whipped around to see a stocky, balding man, dressed in a checkered blue sports jacket and smooth white pants leaning against her desk. Her hazel eyes met his dark brown ones as she approached, hands tightly gripping the keys. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“I just wanted to speak to you after the meeting,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “You spoke so nicely, and I just wanted to thank you. Ask a couple of questions.” 

Sarah pursed her lips, not wanting to turn a potential convert away but feeling her eyes get heavier the longer she was awake. “What kind of questions?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound more alert. 

“Ah, just about God’s views on redemption.” He tapped his fingers on her desk, still intently staring at her. “I’ve had some… problems, we’ll say, in the past, and wanted to ask your opinion on it.”

“Did you not see the pamphlets we were handing out, Mr….?”

“Wilson. Stanley Wilson.” He held a plump hand out and she took it, noticing how strong his grip was. “And I didn’t get one, and I heard all of you talking, so I didn’t want to be a bother.” 

It took all of Sarah’s willpower to not say he was bothering her by keeping her awake. She swallowed a sigh and tried to stay professional, mentally reminding herself of all the times Jesus and his followers had been struggling and still welcomed new believers, and let go of his hand to get him a pamphlet from the drawer. “I would usually love to discuss this with you,” she said, grabbing the first few she saw, “but it’s quite late. Would you mind waiting until Tuesday?” She handed him the papers, turning her back and heading towards the door; the sound of footsteps followed behind her, and Sarah assumed he understood and would leave and let her lock the door.

Until she felt cold steel pointing into her back. 

Her body froze as Stanley’s voice came from behind. “Don’t move,” he instructed, “and you won’t get hurt.” 

“What do you want with me?” Sarah’s body was shaking now, her hands so unsteady she dropped the keys on her feet, and she scanned outside, begging for someone, anyone, to be passing by, but the streets were deserted. “If-if it’s money, we don’t have a lot here, but I can -”

Stanley snorted. “You don’t get off that easy, doll. Go where I tell you to or you’ll regret it.” Tears pricked in her eyes but Sarah complied, keeping her hands free as Stanley used the gun to guide her out of the mission. Her stomach churned as she thought of screaming, begging anyone who lived nearby to call the police, but Stanley continued to push his weapon further into her back; she knew it wasn’t smart. 

They walked only for a few moments before turning in an alleyway where a station wagon was parked and running. Suddenly the gun wasn’t in her back but Stanley’s hand was in her hair, forcing her head down as he opened the back door; a moment later he was pushing her down to the car’s floor and sliding inside. “Drive,” he commanded whoever was in front, slamming the door behind him. Sarah tried to move but found a boot on her head, keeping her low to the ground. 

Carpet rubbed against her cheek as the car started to move, and the tears began to fall. Sarah couldn’t imagine what Stanley wanted with her; she’d never seen him around the mission before today, let alone spoken to him. Her mind raced, trying to think of anyone who would hate her enough to do this, but no names came. 

In her desperation, Sarah started to pray. _Please, God,_ she thought, as Stanley moved her head with his foot and pushed her mouth into the carpet, _please get me out of here_. 

_____

Sarah didn’t know how long they drove for, only that it felt like an eternity. Her exhaustion had nearly pulled her into the lull of sleep at one point, but the fear running through her body had prevented it. Finally, the car stopped, and Sarah heard the driver in the front step out. Stanley stayed put, arms crossed, and foot still placed firmly on Sarah’s head. Too scared to move, she stayed put.

A moment later Stanley moved his arm and unrolled the window, starting to speak to whoever was outside. “You got the rope?”

_Rope?_

Sarah couldn’t quite decipher what the other man said, but heard Stanley grunt. “Alright.” His foot was moved off her face and he swung the car door open; for a brief moment, Sarah thought about fleeing, but the thought vanished when he kneeled down and his pudgy hands yanked her up. His breath reeked of old coffee and cigarettes as he pulled her close, smirking. “Enjoy your ride?”

“What do you _want_ from me?” Sarah asked, practically begging. He didn’t respond, only giving her that same cold smirk, and only when the smell of saltwater hit her was Sarah able to take in her surroundings. 

Old stone buildings, covered in cracks and mold, stood on a decrepit dock. No boats were in sight, and Sarah had a feeling they hadn’t been there in years. Vaguely, she could hear the sound of the city, but they had never sounded nor felt farther away than they did now. 

Sarah was alone. 

A wave of nausea took over and she started to tremble, which only seemed to amuse Stanley more. “Scared?” he said, tone mocking. Despite herself, anger also filled her, and she tried to struggle against his grasp; his response was to tighten it and twist her wrists, making her almost yelp in pain. Both of them were so distracted they didn’t hear the sound of someone approaching, until he cleared his throat. 

“It’s ready.” Stanley turned, letting Sarah see the identity of her other captor. He was younger, potentially even more so than her, with clean-cut blond hair and light gray eyes. When he caught Sarah looking, he turned away; from what, she didn’t know. 

“Perfect. Sister Sarah needs to rest after such a tiresome journey.” The younger man didn’t respond, instead grabbing hold of Sarah’s arm. Both men began to pull her towards one of the buildings, the blond only letting go when they reached the closest. He pulled a rusted key out from his pockets, jiggling the lock a few times before the trio heard a click. Sarah could feel herself shaking again as he opened the door, terrified of what she would find inside.

To her shock, and maybe relief, it seemed to be mostly empty. In the inky darkness she could spot the vague outline of some old boxes, and maybe a few doors, but when a light was flicked on she saw not only was she correct, but there was another thing: a single wooden chair in the middle of the room, with a pile of rope laid neatly by it. Stanley didn’t give her much time to stare at her surroundings, instead dragging her over and pushing her onto the chair. The blond kneeled down next to him, tying her feet while Stanley bound her arms. By the time they were done, Sarah could feel the wood from the chair pricking through her mission uniform, and when she tried to squirm around she winced when it scratched her skin. Neither man seemed to notice her discomfort, and if they did, they didn’t care.

“Please,” Sarah found herself asking for the third time, “what do you want? Why am I here?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Stanley said with a dark laugh that sent chills up Sarah’s spine. He looked over at his younger partner, who still wouldn’t look at Sarah, before saying, “Listen, I’m gonna get some rest. Think you can handle it, Johnny?”

_His name is Johnny_ , Sarah thought, as the blond nodded. Stanley turned to leave, slamming the door behind him. Sarah could see the light of morning was starting, and had the sinking feeling this might be her last time seeing the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

Sky knew something was wrong the moment he woke up. 

He’d fallen asleep around two-thirty, tired from waiting for Sarah; he figured she would just want to crawl into bed, and they could talk in the morning. Sky had a special date planned, with an early dinner at a new Italian restaurant in Midtown and later, tickets to a symphony playing historical church music. It’d been his little secret for over a week now, and he couldn’t wait to see Sarah’s face when he told her.

But when the alarm he’d set rang, and Sky rolled over, still half asleep, to turn it off, he noticed almost instantly the other side was empty. Rolling back over, he saw it hadn’t changed since Sarah had made the bed yesterday morning. “What the…?” he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. Had she fallen asleep in the living room? “Sarah?” he called.

Silence. 

“Shit.” Sky threw the covers off, walking out from the bedroom and into the small hallway where their bathroom also was. He checked inside, but the lights were off and it was empty. Exiting the hallway he now had full view of the rest of their apartment; it wasn’t much, only a kitchen, dining area, and living room, but it was enough for them. 

And it was completely empty. 

Sky was starting to worry. Had Sarah chosen to just sleep at the mission? She’d never done it before, at least not overnight, but he knew there were dorms they had started to use for late nights and converts who didn’t have a place to rest. Making his way to the kitchen where the phone was, Sky quickly dialed the mission’s number, waiting to see if anyone picked up. 

When no one did, his worry was starting to grow into panic. He quickly switched to Arvide’s number, impatiently tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter. The phone rang a few times, making Sky wonder if the old man was also somewhere else, when he heard the receiver being picked up and a tired voice saying, “Hello?”

“Is Sarah with you?” 

“What?” 

“It’s Sky,” he said, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice. “Is Sarah with you?” 

“No.” Arvide’s voice was sounding more alert now. “I haven’t seen her since last night. Did she not come home?”

“It doesn’t look like it.” Frustrated, Sky switched from tapping the counter to now gripping it tightly with his hand. “Did you see her get in a cab? What happened?”

“She told us to go home after it was over and said she would close up herself.” 

Sky’s jaw dropped slightly. “You didn’t wait? Make sure she got a cab?” Of course he knew Sarah was independent, and could usually take care of herself just fine; but the idea of her, alone, trying to find a way home that late didn’t sit well with him. 

“You know Sarah, she practically forced us out,” Arvide said, trying to defend himself but the worry clear in his voice. “Did you call the police?”

“No.” Sky ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves. Sarah hadn’t been seen since the other mission workers left. The thought was making him more nervous than any bet ever had. “I’m going to see if she’s at the mission.” Without saying goodbye, Sky hung up and ran back to the bedroom to quickly change, before grabbing the keys and dashing out the door.

_______

Sky practically threw the money at the cab driver before exiting out into the streets. The mission looked normal as ever from outside, except the lights were off and the door was shut; grabbing the doorknob, Sky was surprised at how it didn’t jiggle, but immediately opened. He stepped inside, flipping the light on and trying to see if anything looked different. “Sarah?” he called, taking another step -

And feeling something bumpy under his foot. 

Kneeling down, Sky removed his foot and saw it was a set of keys. The unlocked door crossed his mind and he sucked his breath in, before turning back outside and trying the lock. It jiggled slightly, but when he applied more force, clicked. A quick turn of the knob confirmed what he’d thought: it was the master key to the mission. 

Which meant either Sarah, who tended to her mission as a loving parent did to a child, had left without locking up; or, the possibility that was making the pit in his stomach grow as it was looking more like a reality, someone had forced her out. Letting a shaky breath out he headed back inside, trying to spot if anything else looked different. Nothing did, at least from this angle. Gripping his free hand into a tight fist, he slowly moved from his spot, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty room as he tried to find anything that could give him an answer. 

The desk - tidy as ever, the large Bible open and the drawers shut with her chair neatly tucked in. Rows of plain wooden chairs slightly ajar, but nothing that couldn’t be explained away with there being so many visitors last night. None of the art or posters on the beige walls had been disturbed. A quick check of the back showed nothing out of place. 

Where is she? Sky thought, frustration mixing with his worry. He considered himself a rational person, one who wasn’t prone to jumping to the worst possible scenario when something seemed wrong, but none of this was making sense. Robbery didn’t seem to be the answer, when nothing was missing. If she was being held for ransom, wouldn’t there have been a note? Sky’s mind raced as he glanced down at the keys in his hand, rubbing his finger over the edges. 

Loud knocking from the front broke his train of thought. Sky quickly made his way to the door, opening it to see Arvide standing outside with two police officers. “Did you find anything?” the old man asked, as Sky moved aside to let the trio in. 

“The mission was unlocked and I found the keys.” Sky placed them on his palm to display, watching Arvide’s face fall at the sight. “Other than that, nothing.” 

“We’ll look around,” the taller of the two cops said. They swiftly moved past Sky and Arvide, leaving the two men awkwardly standing in the doorway; the thought of the other mission workers leaving Sarah alone to close so late left Sky’s mouth souring, and he refused to meet the old man’s eyes. Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring ahead.

It was a few moments later when the two cops came back, hands empty. “Mr. Masterson,” one of them said, not looking happy. “Do you have any idea where else your wife could have gone?”

“No. Especially not that late.” 

“Were you two fighting or anything before she left?”

“No.” The thought of planning to surprise her, which had been pleasant a day ago and now seemed painful, crossed his mind but he tried to push it aside. He raised an eyebrow when he watched the two cops share a glance, looking grim. “Is something wrong?”

“Mr. Masterson…” the short one now said, looking Sky in the eyes, “unless we get more evidence of a struggle, we can’t start searching for forty-eight hours.” 

Silence overtook the room as Sky’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “What?” he finally asked, trying to keep his voice calm. 

“She’s an adult,” the other cop injected, “and there’s no sign of a struggle. Unless we get more definitive evidence, we have to treat it that she left of her own free will.” 

“But the key -”

“Isn’t enough. For all we know,” the cop continued, with a shrug, “she could have just dropped it and decided to leave.” 

Sky’s jaw dropped further and his fists were starting to curl. “This isn’t like her,” he said, voice starting to elevate. “Sarah would never just walk off like that!” 

“You’ll have to take it up with someone,” the tall cop snapped back. “But unless you find damning evidence she didn’t leave by choice, we won’t be able to do much.” 

Fury filling him, Sky took a step towards the two cops; he felt Arvide reach over and try to grab his arm, but pushed him away. “Fine,” he snarled, anger dripping in his voice, “I’ll take it to someone higher up, but when I do, they _better_ start looking for Sarah.” Not bothering to wait for any of their responses, he stormed out.

_______________

Too impatient to wait for a cab or take the subway, Sky made his way to the nearest police station with haste. He didn’t apologize as he barreled through the crowds, elbowing people aside until he had reached his destination; pulling the door open, he walked up to the desk and immediately told the cop working there, “I need to speak to Lt. Brannigan.”

“What for?” the cop asked, not looking up from his keyboard.

“My wife is missing.” 

Now the cop glanced up, giving Sky a curious look, before hitting a buzzer. “Wait here,” he instructed as he stood and headed towards the back; Sky crossed his arms and stared ahead, tapping his foot on the linoleum floor. The thought of Sarah - alone? hurt? terrified? - flashed through his mind again. He hated that he had to waste so much time waiting around for someone to start looking for her. 

The sound of footsteps brought him back to the present, and he turned to see the cop enter again with Lt. Brannigan behind him. Sky met the old man’s eyes, trying to keep his face blank. A year ago, he never would have come to the cops for help with anything, and he was sure the lieutenant knew that. Brannigan didn’t say anything as the younger cop opened the front gate to let Sky in, only making a hand motion to follow him. 

They walked in silence through the small corridor, turning into a small, dimly lit room in the back, with aged yellow wallpaper and worn concrete. A small table with two chairs sat in the middle; Brannigan sat on the side farthest from the door, and Sky took the other. He drummed his fingers on the table before finally asking, “Did he tell you why I’m here?” 

“Yes.” Brannigan’s expression stayed the same, and he flicked something off his sleeve. 

Sky’s irritation grew as the old cop remained silent. “Are you going to take it down? Send anyone out to search?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. Brannigan raised a thin, graying eyebrow at him, before shaking his head.

“Did anything look suspicious with her disappearance?” 

“The mission was unlocked, and her keys were on the floor.” 

“Anything else?”

“And Sarah hasn’t been seen since the rest of the mission left last night.” 

Brannigan nodded and put his hands together, looking thoughtful. The room slipped into a tense silence; Sky moved from tapping his fingers on the table to holding them perfectly still. The irritation he had been feeling earlier was growing into full on rage - why were they sitting around? Why wasn’t anyone taking notes, telling someone to start looking for Sarah?

Finally he asked, voice low, “Why are you just sitting there, Brannigan?” 

The old man stayed silent, now fixing Sky with a cold glare. “Masterson,” he said in a condescending tone, “how many people do you think go missing in this city a day?” 

“What -”

“Hundreds do.” A small sigh left Brannigan’s mouth. “Children and the elderly are quite common.” He perched an eyebrow at Sky, then with an air of ridicule said,” Don’t you think they deserve our full attention?”

Sky grit his teeth. “I am sure you have enough men on the force to look for all of them and Sarah.”

“But,” Brannigan said, leaning forward, “why waste the resources on someone who could have left of her free will?” 

Jaw dropped, Sky could only stare at Brannigan now. “You think... she left by choice?” 

“It sounds like there weren’t any real signs of struggle.” Brannigan shrugged, in such a casual manner it made Sky’s blood boil. “For all you know, something or someone -” his tone became more condescending with the last word, “caused her to leave of her own volition.” 

“She wouldn’t!” Sky stood to his full height, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists. “You know Sarah would never do that!” 

“Do I?” Standing himself, Brannigan’s eyes looked right into Sky’s as he coldly said. “No one thought she would marry the likes of you, either. Perhaps Mrs. Masterson had another secret none of us knew.” 

Sky’s fist connected with the table as he slammed it down, unable to take this anymore. “ _Fuck you!_ ” he shouted, not caring who heard him. “If no one in this fucking police department is going to help, I’ll do it myself!”

Too angry to wait for a reply, he took off out of the room and through the hallway before exiting into the open world.   
______________________

In the time she had been in this situation, Sarah had started noticing things.

Stanley didn’t hang around long, complaining he still had actual work to do. That left her with Johnny, who hadn’t said a word since. He’d pulled up a separate chair and parked it near the door, staring straight ahead; at one point, the blond had been silent for so long Sarah had become concerned he’d spontaneously passed away until a cough brought him back to life. She’d first found herself staring at the back of his head, not sure if she wanted him to speak or acknowledge her presence; although, it wasn’t hard to imagine that him ignoring her might be a blessing in disguise.

When he stayed silent, Sarah turned her head up to stare at the ceiling. Exhaustion still tried to lull her in as her body begged for slumber, but the anxiety over what these men wanted with her and trying to wrap her head around the absurdity of it all kept her awake. Sarah’s mind wandered to Sky - he had to have noticed she hadn’t come home by now, hadn’t he? Was he worried? Had he called the police? Her heart sank as she remembered how little of a trail they’d left. Would they even be able to find her? 

Johnny stirred in his chair, the flimsy wooden legs squeaking under his weight. Sarah looked back at him as he stood and stretched; her throat tightened with jealousy as her wrists and ankles throbbed against the rope. He stayed quiet for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets, before turning around to face Sarah. His gray eyes met her hazel, and he sighed slightly. “Look, I - this wasn’t my idea.” His eyes turned towards the ground. 

Sarah blinked. “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then who’s was it?”

Johnny sucked his breath through his teeth. “It’s… a long story.”

“And I clearly have the time.” Despite her fear, irritation hung in her voice; his cheeks turned pink, and he turned away. Sarah studied him, noting beads of sweat dripping off his neck and how he kept wringing his hands together, before quietly asking, “Why can’t you look at me?” 

“What?” He still wouldn’t face her.

“You can drag me out here against my will,” Johnny froze, turning a deeper shade of pink, as Sarah continued, “but you won’t look me in the eyes. Why?” 

Hands on top of one another, Johnny turned and met Sarah’s eyes again; this time, he tried to keep his gaze steady. “I’m not…” He sighed, looking back down at the floor. 

“You’re not what?” 

“I’m not here because I want to be, either.” 

Johnny’s voice had turned bitter as Sarah soaked in the information. There had to be more going on if he wasn’t here willingly either, hadn’t there? But what in the world could she have to do with it? “Then why are you?” she asked hesitantly.

He sniffed, wiping at his nose before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice quiet and tone apologetic. “I can’t tell you.” 

Sarah wanted to scream. Not having answers was a peeve on a normal day; here, the less she knew the more she feared. She twisted in the chair, wincing as wood spikes scratched against her skin. Her nose started to itch and Sarah scrunched it, longingly wishing her hands were free, as Johnny turned back away to face the front door. His hand was raised to his chin as he stared ahead, lost in thought. 

The click of a lock caught both their attention, and soon the door opened, revealing a slight bit of a dusky sky and a sweating Stanley. He wiped his brow as the door closed with a clunk behind him, muttering something about the subway; he turned his head up first to glance at Johnny, then at Sarah. His thin lips turned into a cruel, joyless smile that sent chills down her spine, and she looked down at her lap. 

“She been behaving?” he asked Johnny, who was looking away again.

The thin blond blinked. “Uh, yeah, it’s been quiet.”

“Boss been around?”

“No. Probably tomorrow.” 

Stanley nodded, and passed Johnny to stand next to Sarah. She kept her eyes down as he brushed his hands on her shoulder. “Pretty doll, ain’t she?” he said, placing his palm more firmly on her. Sarah’s stomach lurched as he gripped it and kneeled slightly to be on her level. 

“Stanley,” Johnny warned, but he was ignored; Stanley played with the few stray locks of hair touching her neck, sending chills up her spine. He laughed, a quiet and dark chuckle, at her obvious discomfort. 

“Look at me, doll.”

“No.” 

Suddenly, Stanley grabbed her face and yanked it up, forcing her to turn towards him. His smile stretched as her eyes widened with fear, and she tried to pull away. Stanley tightened his grip on her jaw, causing Sarah to whimper in pain. “Not so feisty now, are you?” he said, mockingly shaking his head. 

Anger filled Sarah; never, in her life, had she hated someone like she hated this man. He shifted slightly, moving his hand closer to her mouth, and without a second thought she bit it as hard as she could. Stanley squawked, jumping back slightly while Johnny leapt between the two. “Fucking bitch!” he shouted. “You’ll pay for that, you fucking -”

“Stanley! Take a walk!” 

The sudden outburst caused Sarah to gasp, and Stanley’s jaw lowering told her he wasn’t expecting it either. “Since when can you boss me around, you little -”

“Since my dad came up with this plan,” Johnny snapped. He was trembling slightly, voice shaking, “Now, walk, patrol, I don’t care, just get out!” Stanley glowered as both men stood,their hands balled into fists, before he flipped around and stalked out. The blond sighed, rubbing at his eyes, before turning to face Sarah.  
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly. 

Sarah ignored him, more focused on what had been said. “Your father is in charge of this?” 

His eyes widened, and he sighed again. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “That’s how I got roped into this.” Approaching Sarah he kneeled down and began untying her feet; the moment they were free, he moved a hand to grip her shoulder as he worked on her hands. Sarah nearly moaned from pleasure when they were freed, but was forced up before she could use them. “I’m sorry,” Johnny apologized again as he started guiding her towards another side of the room. 

“If you’re sorry, why are you doing this? Can’t you report your father to the police?” 

Guilt and resentment flashed in his eyes. “I wish, but… I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.” They’d reached the other side of the room where a closet door stood. Johnny opened it and flicked a light on, revealing only a small, ratty mattress and a gray bucket. He pulled Sarah in before stepping outside the door, keeping a firm hand on the lock. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Until then, just,” he paused, before awkwardly saying, “hang tight.” A quick flick of the wrists and the door was closed; the sound of clicking told her it was locked.

The exhaustion of the day overtook Sarah as she crumpled to the ground and buried her face in her arms. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she cried, trying to understand how and why this was happening. Yesterday her life had been normal; she had her husband, her friends, and her work with the mission. Now she was trapped against her will on the opposite side of New York, and neither man who had taken her would tell her anything. 

Her eyes were heavy when she raised her head up, staring at the ceiling light. She knew she should at least attempt to sleep, especially when she didn’t know what time it was and how far “the morning” Johnny was talking about, but she couldn’t find the energy to move. Silence hung over the small room as she sat, mind blank, before looking down at her hands. Her wrists were red, and it hurt slightly to move them.

But she could. 

Folding them, Sarah closed her eyes and bowed her head to pray. She’d never found it hard to talk to God, and tonight, she had a lot to say.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, Sarah had managed to fall asleep. Her slumber, however, was anything but peaceful. The night was cold, and the building’s old walls couldn’t protect the inside from the November chill. She curled her body into a ball, longing for the comfort of the old quilt at home. Even when she drifted off, visions of the day’s events plagued her nightmares like a broken movie reel. Twice they’d gotten so bad she gasped for breath as she was startled awake. 

Half asleep, she heard the door click open, and someone entered the room. Sarah started to sit up, brain fogged, wondering why they hadn’t turned the light on— 

And realizing another human was pressing their weight onto her legs. 

Her eyes snapped open as Stanley leaned down harder on her, his rotten breath hot on her neck. “Gimme a kiss, doll,” he mumbled, pressing his slobbery lips down on her neck. Goosebumps formed on Sarah’s skin as she struggled under him, trying to shove him off, but Stanley pinned her down and started moving his mouth up to her jaw. 

“You’re pretty when you’re scared,” he said, voice patronizing as he pulled his lips off her jaw with a sickening smack. “Dolls like you oughta be scared more often.” Sarah froze at his words as he moved his lips to hers, and the taste of coffee and cigars crossed her tongue. Stanley shifted his weight ever so slightly, freeing Sarah’s right hand, and she swung it at his cheek with a hard slap. 

Stanley yelped in surprise, giving up just enough for Sarah to begin to squirm out from under him—

Only for his fist to slam right into her lips and send her crashing against the wall.

Stars flashed in front of her eyes as the taste of copper filled her mouth. She became aware a moment too late of Stanley grabbing her shirt and yanking her up until they were face to face. “Thought that was funny, didn’t you, bitch?” he snarled, pulling her closer. She could feel his spit as he continued, “If boss didn’t want you alive right now, I’d break your—”

_“Stanley!”_

Johnny’s voice broke through the room like a crack of thunder, and he ran over to pull Stanley off. Sarah fell back against the mattress, blinking hard as her vision slowly came back to normal. Her heart pounded rapidly as blood continued to leak over her tongue. She wanted to spit it out, but more than that she wanted to stay away from them as much as possible. And what was that about their boss, whoever he was, wanting her alive right now? Did they have plans to kill her? But if they did, what was making them wait? The pit of her stomach fell as each possibility crossed her mind.

The door slamming brought her back to her captors, and she turned her head up to see Stanley storming out of the closet while Johnny watched, arms crossed over his chest. He sighed deeply and Sarah, unable to take the metallic taste any longer, leaned over and began spitting the blood out; her jaw throbbed and she rubbed at it; she moaned slightly and Johnny whipped around, shocked she was still in the room, and drew a sharp breath when he saw the blood dribbling from her mouth.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he quietly reprimanded as he approached her. 

“He shouldn’t have tried to kiss me.” Sarah averted her eyes as Johnny kneeled down to examine her and her mouth. He winced seeing the blood and forming bruise, and without hesitation, grabbed a handkerchief from his back pocket and held it out. Sarah eyed it before tentatively grabbing it and dabbing at her mouth. “Thank you,” she murmured, handing it back.

He took it but stayed still, watching as Sarah shifted her weight on the mattress and winced at her jaw. “Do you want some water?” 

The question surprised Sarah. She had been so preoccupied with her fight with Stanley, she had nearly forgotten about the dry sensation in her mouth and her tongue still tasting like copper. When was the last time she had anything to drink? A cup of coffee before the prayer meeting? Yes, that had to be it. She nodded at Johnny, who stood up and left the room—not without locking the door, something Sarah shouldn’t have been hurt by but was—leaving her alone with her thoughts again. 

Stanley was violent, the kind of man who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Sarah had dealt with harassment from men before and prided herself on being able to keep her composure. But now she was at the mercy of one of the worst kinds of men, one who had a soul she’d never be able to save. One who scared her more than any person ever had. 

And Johnny? Sarah didn’t know what to make of him. He claimed he didn’t want to be here, and it was all his father’s doing. He had also protected her from Stanley twice, and she was grateful. But she still couldn’t wrap her mind around why he couldn’t call the cops and get them both out of this mess. Were his complaints about his father all a lie? A way to make her trust him? 

The door creaked open and Sarah looked up to see Johnny, entering with a styrofoam cup in hand. “Here,” he said, handing it over. She accepted it and took a slow, deliberate sip. The water was room temperature, and Sarah thought she could taste more metal in it. But she was too relieved to have something to wash the blood out and quench her thirst that she didn’t care. Much. 

When she finished, Johnny took the cup and crushed it before shoving it in his pocket. An awkward silence overtook the room, as he glanced out the door. Sarah stared at her hands and played with her wedding band. She thought of Sky; what could he even be thinking happened to her? He had to have reported her missing by now, she’d been gone for over a day. 

Did he miss her as much as she was missing him?

She remembered Sky wrapping her in his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as he kissed her loving and passionate—nothing like the selfish and slobbery ones she’d just been forced to endure—and told her everything would be alright. Tears welled in her eyes but she swiped them away, refusing to let Johnny see her cry. She sniffled, which caught his attention, and he pursed his lips before checking his watch. 

“Better get you out there. The boss wants to see you tonight.” 

“He does?” 

“Yeah. After work tonight.”

Sarah’s heart began to race. Yesterday, she’d wondered for hours who this boss of theirs was, and what on Earth he could want with her. Now, after hearing Stanley say he only wanted her alive “for now”, she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers. She stayed silent as Johnny pulled her up, and guided her from the closet to the main room. 

Her stomach clenched at seeing that same wooden chair. Part of her wanted to scream, fight—Johnny didn’t seem particularly athletic, and if she could take those bar patrons in Havana she was sure she could take him—and make a run for it. Maybe civilization was close, and she could find someone who would take her to the nearest police station where she could report everything and then go home—

But then she remembered the door was locked, Stanley was on guard outside, and she had no idea where this even was. Figuring out how to escape one of them would be hard enough, and beating all three was laughably impossible. So, much as her heart was still racing, and dread filled her from head to toe, she sat down without a fuss. Johnny, thankfully, wasn’t as rough as her other captor, but her wrists and ankles still burnt as the rope rubbed against them and she grimaced. 

Johnny caught sight of her face as he stood up. A look of regret crossed his face,and for a moment, Sarah thought he was going to apologize, but instead, he tightened his lips, shook his head, and looked away.

______________________________________

Since leaving the station, Sky hadn’t stopped looking for Sarah.

He’d started by calling all the other mission workers, trying to see if there was anything they’d noticed, but all of them had the same story: Sarah told them to leave and she would lock up by herself. By the time he’d gotten down the list of mission workers and ended on Nicely, only to get the same story, Sky snapped. “Why did none of you _think_ to check that she got a cab?” 

“She insisted on us leaving, Sky! You know better than anyone what it is like to argue with her!” 

“This is different!” Sky hollered into the phone, positive his neighbors could hear but not caring if they did. “One of you could have stayed, made sure she was safe, called a cab for her! Anything other than leaving her alone!” He’d slammed the phone down before moving onto the next part of his search. 

He’d checked the businesses around the mission, asking if they’d seen or heard anyone suspicious. Unfortunately, they either hadn’t or pointed out with as many customers they got, it was hard to identify anyone outside of a regular. Next had been her church, then a nearby homeless shelter the mission worked closely with, but it was no dice. Sarah might as well have vanished into thin air. 

Now he was back at their apartment, pacing in the living room and trying to rack his brain for more ideas. Sarah couldn’t have gone far. She never carried much money with her, just enough to pay for her subway or cab fare. He’d called the bank, and they’d confirmed their balance was the same. 

Arvide had even made the long-distance call to Massachusetts, to see if her sisters had heard anything. Josie and Viola were both horrified, saying they hadn’t heard from Sarah since last week. Irene had offered the most insight—she’d called earlier the day of the prayer meeting, and insisted Sarah had seemed fine. 

If it hadn’t been clear to Sky before then, it was clear now: Sarah had more than likely been taken against her will. But by whom? And why? He may have been a former denizen of Nathan’s crap games, but unlike some of the others, Sky didn’t have skeletons in his closet. He’d always paid upfront when he lost and never welched. There may have been some who resented his wins in his infamous bets, but he never felt that it was deep enough to turn into this, and he hadn’t gambled since their wedding. If it was ransom they were after, he should have received a call or note by now, right?

This was leaving him with a possibility that chilled him to the bone: whatever had happened was an isolated incident. Sarah was at the mercy of an unknown psychopath, the type of person they’d seen in the movies and in the papers but assumed would never darken their door. The thought of what a captor like that could want with his wife made the rise of bile burn the back of Sky’s throat. 

He stopped pacing to glance out their living room window. Their Queens neighborhood was quiet, with a few small shops and other apartment buildings and only a few dozen people dotting his line of vision. When they’d first moved here, Sky had thought it was quaint, if a little quiet for his taste. He’d always been a fan of Manhattan itself, and before marriage, had figured if he ever settled down it would have been there. 

But now, he gazed at the other apartments and thought of their numerous identical rooms, no different from the rest of the city’s.He wasn’t even sure if Sarah was still _in_ New York, which made him feel smaller than he ever had. 

_____________________________________________

Sarah’s day in captivity wasn’t much different than her first. 

She’d stared at the ceiling for most of it as Johnny sat ahead of her, refusing to speak. Part of it had been spent praying, asking God to guide her out. The other had been daydreaming about seeing her loved ones again; imagining a hug from her uncle, sharing a laugh with her coworkers, or even getting to kiss her husband filled her with a sense of yearning stronger than almost anything she’d ever felt before. 

Today, however, Johnny had up and left an hour ago without a word to Sarah. She’d tried messing with the rope on her wrists to see if she could get out, but it was no use. Thankfully, Stanley hadn’t popped in—she didn’t want to think about what he would do if they were alone. The silence was only broken by water dripping from the pipes and wind blowing outside the building. Exhaustion tugged at her eyelids, and Sarah began to drift off. 

Her dazed state was ended when the door creaked open, a sharp breeze whipping her face. Johnny entered, wearing a thin windbreaker and carrying a brown paper bag. His eyes darted at her and then around the room before he shut the door behind him. "Hey," he said, "I brought you something." The words were rushed as he placed the bag on the floor and kneeled next to her.

"What?" Sarah asked, confused as he began untying the ropes.

"Some food. Listen, I'm not supposed to feed you, so you gotta be quick." Her wrists were suddenly free and she flexed them, feeling the blood rush back as she enjoyed the freedom, before the paper bag was placed on her lap. Opening it revealed a sandwich, a bag of pretzels, and a small water bottle. Sarah’s stomach growled; the last time she'd eaten was a quick dinner with Sky before the prayer meeting; well over a day now. 

She pulled the sandwich out first, biting into it with a ferocity that a few days ago, Sarah would have been embarrassed by. Current Sarah didn’t care. The plain sandwich tasted better than the finest meal she’d ever eaten, and she went for the second bite as soon as she swallowed the first. Her stomach rumbled again, and Johnny weakly smiled. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were that hungry.” 

She shot him a look. “I haven’t eaten since you kidnapped me.” He shut his mouth and turned away. Sarah continued to eat, Johnny’s comment about needing to be fast sticking. Was his boss planning on starving her to death? But if he wanted her dead, why not a faster way? The possibilities swirled in her mind, each one worse than the last, and her body felt as though lead was weighing it down. 

Her stomach had begun to churn, and although she was still hungry, Sarah found she couldn’t take another bite. She placed the half-eaten sandwich on her lap and pulled the water bottle out, unscrewing the cap and taking a small sip. It was colder than the cup she’d had earlier, and Sarah’s parched throat welcomed it. She sighed slightly.

Johnny, who had been silent, perked up at the sound and turned back around. His eyes landed on the sandwich, and he raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to finish that?”

“Maybe.” She took another sip of water. 

His face paled slightly. “Sarah, I… This sucks, I know, and I’m sorry, but please. Try to be quick.” Johnny glanced down at the watch on his wrist as he spoke. Fear tinged his voice, in a way that hadn’t before; Sarah paused, the bottle still on her lips.

“Fine then. I’m done.” She tried putting the bottle back, but Johnny had leapt up and grabbed it instead. He clumsily threw it and the sandwich back in the bag, grabbing it and bolting to a nearby trash can. Sarah rubbed at her wrists, dreading the thought of being tied up again, when the door opened. A chill filled the room as Stanley entered, muttering something about the subway, when he stopped and stared.

“What’s her hands doing free?” He asked Johnny, who was frozen by the trash, before his eyes again landed on Sarah. A cold smirk crossed his thin lips as he approached her, and Sarah looked down as he studied her. The events of the morning were still fresh, and she didn’t want to anger him. 

Stanley kneeled down, reaching his hand over to touch Sarah’s chin. She winced as his thumb traced her mouth, and his smirk grew bigger when crumbs came off. He stood back up and looked at Johnny. “You fed her?”

The blond froze. “I can explain—”

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, Johnny-boy.” He chuckled darkly as he moved behind the chair. Goosebumps covered Sarah as he firmly pressed her arms against the chair and began to tie her hands. Stanley’s breath was hot on her neck as he tightened the knot, and Sarah shuddered as she felt wood chips pierce through her uniform and scratched her skin.

Finished, Stanley stood up, placed a flabby hand on Sarah’s shoulder, and gripped it tightly. Sarah stayed silent, praying he couldn’t notice her trembling. She looked at Johnny, trying to meet his eyes, but his eyes were firmly locked on the ground. Frustrated, she kept staring, silently begging him to say something, anything to help her.

But he stayed silent.

Stanley’s grip was suddenly firmer, more possessive. “So, Johnny, here’s a deal for you. I won’t tell your dad about this little mishap if you leave the doll here with me tonight.” Sarah froze, heart pounding as he spoke. His eyes had a glint of cruelty in them as his fingers dug deeper into her shoulder.

Johnny’s head shot up. “I—” he said, voice dripping in fear. Sarah finally caught his eyes, pleading with her own for him to say no; he pursed his lips, looked down again, and quietly muttered, “No, I-I can’t allow you to do that.”

“Why not?” Stanley’s voice was dangerously calm. 

“You know why.” Johnny sounded angry now, and his hands were balled into fists. 

“And you know how your dad feels about his rules being broken.” 

Johnny paled and his hands started to tremble; before he could respond, the sound of a key jiggling in the front door brought the trio back to the present. Sarah watched as the blond paled again, and Stanley’s grip on her was now so tight she whimpered in pain. The bald man didn’t notice, or if he did, didn’t say anything. 

Her body had begun shaking with anxiety. This was their boss, the one who it seemed had come up with the idea of kidnapping her. Was she finally getting answers? Was she ready for them? Sarah wasn’t sure. But it was too late to be sure.

The door finally clicked open, opening to the evening sky and letting in a gust of cold air. Sarah strained her eyes to see the thin man that entered, dressed in a police uniform, and when he flicked another light on, gasped in horror.

“Lt. Brannigan?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUN
> 
> Also, for anyone reading, sorry for the wait! I started back at work and it's been a little rough. Thank you and any comments/criticism is welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am SO sorry to anyone who reads this for the long wait. My job had us working 60+ hour weeks with little to no time off, so even when I wasn't there I'd ether be sleeping or too brain dead to write. Hopefully in the New Year things will actually calm down and the rest of this comes smoothly.
> 
> Secondly, this is where things start to get even darker so a warning that the descriptions/discussions of rape are coming. Please take care of yourself if that triggers you.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave any comments or critiques below! <3

Eyes wide and mouth agape, Sarah stared at the lieutenant. She’d been racking her brain for the last two days, trying to figure out who could want to harm her. The old cop’s name hadn’t come up once. He’d barely acknowledged Sarah’s existence since she came to New York. In fact, the first time he’d spoken directly to her was the night she and Sky came back from Havana. There, he’d accused her of conspiring with the gamblers to leave the mission open and empty for their crap game, an accusation that broke the idyllic, love-filled trance she and Sky had been in. 

But now he was at the door, arms folded across his thin chest as his cold eyes locked with hers. “Yes, Mrs. Masterson?” he asked, voice indifferent as his lips and nose curled up into a sneer. Stanley’s grip on her shoulder loosened and he went to stand next to Brannigan. Johnny, face pale and drenched in sweat, stayed put. 

Sarah continued to stare back, slack-jawed as she struggled to form words. Finally, she sputtered out, “What is this? What on _Earth_ do you want with me?!” Her body shook as she spoke, her voice cracking on the last few words, and she hated it. Hated how she couldn’t hide the fear that consumed her. 

Brannigan smirked, taking a step towards Sarah with Stanley close behind him. Instinctively, she tried to push herself back in the chair, but Stanley grabbed and held her in place. Sarah’s heart pounded as the old man studied her, the smirk never leaving his face before he snatched her chin. Her jaw, still sore from the morning punch it’d taken, burned at the touch, and she whimpered in pain. Grinning, and clearly delighted, he tightened his grip until she was squirming in her seat as tears slid down her cheeks. 

Both men laughed at her plight, Stanley’s hold on her shoulders strengthening. Sarah’s entire body shook as her eyes desperately flicked over to Johnny. His eyes caught hers and widened; for a moment, their gazes locked on each other, frozen in time, before Johnny mouthed, ‘I’m sorry,’ and his eyes flicked to the floor. 

Sarah’s heart sank. She didn’t know what she’d expected when Johnny had been blatantly scared of his father from the start, but she’d hoped—maybe stupidly—he would maybe stand up for her as he had against Stanley. Her eyes flickered back to Brannigan, whose sinister smirk hadn’t changed. 

“Are you ready to stay quiet?” he asked with a sneer, and he pressed his thumbs down into her chin. His grip was so tight, she could barely move her head, but she managed a nod. 

He released her chin, and Sarah let out a shaky breath. She started to move her hand to rub at it, but Stanley quickly grabbed them and began retying; her wrists, still burnt from the past day and a half, screamed for release as the ropes tightened. Tears pricked in her eyes and she clenched them shut, trying to control herself in front of these dangerous men. Footsteps shuffled from behind, and when Sarah’s eyes reopened, Stanley once again flanked his boss’ side. Both men stared her down, sending a chill up her spine. Sarah took another breath before forcing her eyes to lock back on theirs. She spoke, her voice low. “Please. Just tell me.”

Satisfied, Brannigan crossed the floor and stood directly in front of Sarah. His arms were across his chest as his head cocked to the left, and the smirk on his lips grew. “Why, my dear, it’s simple. Revenge.”

“Revenge?” Sarah asked, the pitch of her voice rising with her shock. “Revenge for what?”

Brannigan’s arms came down, and he jabbed a bony finger at Sarah’s chest. “For what you cost me, you damn bitch!” He snarled the words as he kneeled down to be face to face with her; Sarah could feel saliva hitting her face as he continued, and she recoiled. “If you hadn’t lied for those criminals who trashed your mission, I would have been made captain!” 

If Sarah could have jumped from her seat, she would have. “ _That’s_ what this is about?” she asked incredulously. She regretted it instantly when Brannigan’s face twisted into more anger. 

His hand opened and grabbed her neck, and Sarah gasped for air as he continued to rant and rave. “You made me a laughing stock among my men! None of them took me seriously when I told them we needed to keep an eye on the crap games, and let the city run amok! It’s in ruins because of you!” The grip tightened, and tears began to fall as Sarah desperately tried to find a way to breathe. 

She twisted in her seat, wood chips cutting through her clothes, praying for an escape. The Lord must have finally heard her, for Brannigan released her a moment later. Relief washed over her body as she gulped in air, tasting salt from the earlier tears; fear returned a moment later when she realized Brannigan hadn’t moved. Gnawing at her lips, Sarah racked her brain for something, but came up short.

What could she even say, really? Sorry she had realized those men were not all monsters and benefited more from learning the word of God in the mission than they would in a jail cell? Or how the city had seemed to stay the same after, with no jump in crime Sarah had noticed? And frankly, how was it all her fault one bust going wrong had caused him to miss a promotion? 

Anger bubbled inside her and Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “So you chose to kidnap me for that? Why?”

“It was the one thing that matched what you cost me.” Another cruel grin crossed his face as he continued. “You and that bastard you married.”

“What?” Sarah blinked, tensing at the mention of Sky. 

Brannigan snorted. “Yes, him. It’s his fault as much as yours.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, looking almost disappointed. “You know, I couldn’t believe it when you went for him. A woman of God, marrying that trash?” Sarah flinched as he leaned closer, their faces less than an inch apart, and his hot breath tickling her face. “But why does it matter? It’s not like you’ll see him again.”

Once again, Sarah was rendered speechless. Stanley’s comment from the morning about keeping her alive for now began to ring in her head, and with Brannigan’s last, all the pieces of the horrible puzzle were falling together. “You’re going to kill me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said it. 

“Yes.” A humorless chuckle as Sarah started to shake. “Not now, but perhaps in a day or so. Long enough to keep Masterson wondering where you are, and if you left of your own will.” He finally stepped back, enjoying how terrified his prisoner was. “After all, that’s what I told him you did.”

Sarah gasped. “You - you won’t get away with this!” 

“Oh, but I already have.” He glanced down at his watch, before looking back at her. “Johnny, come with me. Stanley…” The two men’s eyes met, and the pit in Sarah’s stomach only grew as the pudgy man’s lips split into an all-too-happy smile. “You can do what you want with Ms. Masterson.” 

“Dad—” Johnny stuttered, pale as a ghost. “Dad, I can...”

“I said come, Johnny.” He snapped his fingers, and Sarah watched as Johnny, head low, trudged towards him. The young man wouldn’t look at Sarah as he followed his father towards the door. Brannigan stopped, hand on the knob, and turned to Sarah one last time. With a cheeky grin and a tip of the hat, he said in an almost sing-song voice, “Have a great night, you two.”

The door opened and closed with both men stepping out. Sarah’s blood was ice as Stanley approached her, his thick hands caressing her sweat-covered face. “Now, Miss Sarah,” he said, reaching behind to grab the chair. “Let’s say you and I have some fun now.”


End file.
